Armenian genocide of 1915 examined in pair of films at MFA

Suggested headline: Armenian genocide of 1915 examined in two films at MFA

KOMITAS

Written and directed by Don Askarian.

Starring Samvel Ovasapian, Onig

Saadetian, and Margarita Woskanian.

[el1l]

TILLBAKA TILL ARARAT

BACK TO ARARAT

Directed by Pea Holmquist with

G"oran Gunner, Jim Downing, Suzanne

Khardalian, and G"oran Gun'er.

With Raffy, Ani, Garabed Hovakimian,

and a 92-year old grandmother.

[el1l]

The films will play June 8-9

at the Museum of Fine Arts.

By MANAVENDRA K. THAKUR

IN ONE OF THE WORST crimes against humanity of the 20th century, 1.5
million Armenians were brutally killed and an entire people were forced to
leave their land. Two films playing later this week at the Museum of Fine
Arts focus attention on the long-neglected 1915 genocide and its aftermath.

Komitas is a reserved meditation on the troubled life of the
Armenian monk Soghomon Soghomonian, known as Komitas, who was an
internationally known composer and expert on Armenian folk music. Komitas
was devastated by the horrors of the 1915 massacre and spent the rest of
his years in various mental institutions.

The film does not recreate his life or tell his life story in any
conventional sense. Rather, writer-director Don Askarian virtually
eliminates all dialogue to present a series of meticulously crafted images
that are haunting and beautiful in a grotesque, lamenting, and symbolic
way. In one sequence, Askarian's camera enters a monastery and focuses on
religious icons painted on a cracked plaster wall. A minute or two after
rain begins falling outside, streams of water begin to flow down the wall
-- which literally crumbles and dissolves before the camera's unblinking
gaze. Hidden in a compartment behind the wall is a ancient-looking scroll
and a long-necked pitcher filled with a bright blue liquid. In another
sequence, the camera explores a dark room strewn with broken musical
instruments and related paraphernalia. Komitas cowers in the darkest corner
while a swarm of bees buzz around the room.

As these examples show, Askarian's mise-en-scene always strives to
recreate Komitas' psychological state, and for the most part, he is highly
successful. As several critics have pointed out, the film's long tracking
shots, extended takes, and nonlinear construction evoke memories of the
films of Andrei Tarkovsky, while Askarian's use of brilliant colors and
striking imagery recall the supercharged imagination that fueled Sergei
Paradjanov's recent Ashik-Kerib. To be compared with two of the
greatest Soviet film directors of the last quarter century is an
extraordinary achievement. Askarian's accomplishment becomes even more
incredible when one realizes that this is his first full-length feature
film.

Because Komitas is a sober and poetic meditation on the life of a
tragic figure and a tragic moment in history, the film obviously does not
function as a conventional film biography of Komitas or any factual account
of the 1915 massacre. That role is fulfilled instead by the documentary
that is being shown afterwards. Back to Ararat is a highly
informative, densely packed, and well-constructed documentary about the
Armenian massacre and various Armenian communities around the world today.

Made by Swedish director Pea Holmquist, the film includes footage from
Armenian communities in New York, Los Angeles, Boston, Beirut, Lyon
(France), and Soviet Armenia. Perhaps most importantly, the filmmakers also
traveled through Turkey to photograph Mt. Ararat and to interview the sole
remaining Armenian family in "a small village in Anatolia, somewhere in Old
Armenia." There, the filmmakers found a 92-year-old grandmother who
recounts her memories while warning the filmmakers that "If the police hear
you, they'll take you away. Be wise!"

It is clear that the primary purpose of the documentary is to give
recognition and expression to a terrible tragedy, which few people outside
the Armenian community know or care about. The film succeeds admirably at
fulfilling this task, and because Back to Ararat is probably the
first (and perhaps the only) major documentary to address the events of
1915, the film is historically important as well.

It is clear that both Komitas and Back to Ararat represent
a major step forward in terms of making the world aware of the Armenian
genocide. One is a highly poetic and artistic, the other solid and
informative. Ideally, these two films should be seen at least a week or two
apart, but even so, the Museum of Fine Arts is to be heartily congratulated
for bringing this excellent double bill to Boston.

However, the film will appeal primarily to Armenian audiences precisely
because of its wholeheartedly Armenian viewpoint. What makes that viewpoint
problematic is that "genocide" is a legal and political term. While the
film informs viewers that the European Parliament recently voted to
recognize the acts of 1915 as genocide, the declaration's narrow margin (a
vote of 68 to 60) is omitted.

Such a small margin underscores that -- from a legal and political point
of view -- the repeated denials of genocide by the Turkish government
create a pressing need for a clear-headed, thoroughly documented, and
indisputable account. Unfortunately, Tillbaka Till Ararat is not that film;
it does not try to prevent any more denials in the future. While others are
undoubtedly working to produce documentation that will do just that, the
film could easily have been more analytic than it currently is. The
filmmakers concentrate so heavily on a tragedy that happened more than
seven decades ago, they can only briefly examine the divisions and
pressures facing the worldwide Armenian community today.

One may argue that it is too much to expect the film to probe the
Armenian community, tackle the legal question of genocide, and provide an
catharsis for Armenians all at the same time. However, filmmakers such as
Marcel Ophuls and Jan Tr"oell have accomplished as much in their
documentaries, and more importantly, it is the successful moments in
Tillbaka Till Ararat itself that raise one's expectations. Holdquist does
in fact include a sequence that brings to light a generational gap between
the attitudes of a passionate young Amenian named Raffy, his finace Ani,
and Ani's elderly parents. These sort of complexities abound in every
culture, and they need to be explored. Holdquist's film would have been
even more praiseworthy if he had included more scenes like this one.